Empty Chairs at Empty Tables
by Eagleye Blackheart
Summary: Remus visits the Gryffindor Commonroom for the first time after accepting the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Painful memories are brought to light, but there is something new to help him through the experience.


**Maurice's Note:** I'm sorry, but this is unbeta-ed, so I'm not very confident about the quality of it. Apologies if you think it is not up to my previous standard. Generally my best friend checks over them and makes a lot of important changes, but we never really got around to it for this one.

**Disclaimer: **Unfortunately, I don't own Harry. Nor Remus. Nor Gryffindor. Damnit.

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Remus made his way slowly through the familiar corridors he remembered so vividly from his youth. Ever since being offered the post as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor he had been meaning to make the long trek up to Gryffindor tower, but the threat of being ambushed by memories had made him hesitant to begin the visit.

As he ambled along he found his fears coming to fruition. There was the ghost poor Peter, fleeing down the hall after a run in by himself with Severus. That was where James had caught Lily by the waist and swung her around in the air when she finally said yes to him. That over there, that was where Sirius had dragged him into the broom closet for a much needed snog. Remus flinched away from that last thought. Sirius was a topic his mind refused to discuss with anyone, including himself.

With a jolt in his stomach he realised that it would be impossible to forget about Sirius during this long awaited journey. With a sigh of regret mingled with frustration, he accepted that he would have to ignore his more recent past and simply focus on his Hogwarts days if he were to gain anything from this experience.

He recommenced the slow pace he had not noticed stopping, gradually approaching, and finally entering the common room. If he had thought it difficult to contain the onslaught of memory which followed simply walking down those long corridors of his past, it was nothing in comparison to the heart wrenching pain he experienced when he entered the Gryffindor common room. So unchanged was the room it was as though he had never left. All the furniture were the same, albeit a little scruffier. The same musty smell was in the air, as if too many people had been crowded into a small space for a long period of time. He could hear the merry crackling of the fire.

Peter, Sirius and James were in their corner, obviously plotting and waiting for their Moony to put the finishing touches on another ingenious prank. There they were running through the portrait hole, drunk with the joy that accompanies imminent holidays. And there they all sat, solemn and serious, considering their futures, together at the table.

It broke Remus' heart, which had already been shattered beyond repair for so many years, to come so close to what had been the happiest time of his life, and yet be unable to grasp it, to feel it again. Taking a seat at _his_ chair, at his precious marauders' table, he contemplated his motives for forcing himself to come up here.

He had wanted to try to soothe his memories, calm his fears, revisit the joy of his youth. Instead, all he could see was the evidence that his life was worthless as it was, with his most cherished treasures having been ripped from his grasp in one night 12 years ago. Remus had never truly recovered from his loss. As he gazed around at the shadows from his past, he wondered what their sacrifice had been for. And their betrayal.

Sirius had been just as vocal as James and himself about being an active part of the war against Voldemort. Now, as always, Remus was unable to understand why he had joined the dark side. Sirius had worn his heart on his sleeve, and no-one had ever doubted his loyalty until that fateful Halloween. Dragging his thoughts forcibly away from the cause of much of his pain, the werewolf focused again on his surroundings.

As he grew accustomed to being in the common room once more, he decided that since he had come this far, he may as well go the whole hog, so to speak. Carefully he stood and moved towards the entry to the boy's dorms. Cautiously opening the door to his old dorm room, he took a long peek around, taking everything in. His eyes, however, stopped roaming suddenly as they fell upon a small boy, lying in the same bed that was once his.

"Harry," He whispered to himself, shocked. He had not expected to see the unwitting last member of his 'family' at all tonight, let alone find him occupying what was once Remus' own sanctuary.

It seemed as though James was sending his one last gift. A reminder that all was not lost, although most of the world shunned him and the rest either pitied or feared him. There was still this boy, his only remaining family, who did not know that Remus would willingly die for him like his mother had so many yeas before. This was a reminder from James that Remus should not dwell only in the company of shadows and memory, as he had for so long.

With a sigh of both loneliness and gratitude, the aging man turned from the doorway and made his way back to his own quarters, blissful in the knowledge that he and Harry shared a bond more powerful than any magic.

The emerald eyes that followed his progress, from the dorm room and then the top of the stairs, mirrored the state of mind of their favourite teacher and newly acquired friend.


End file.
